


The Pink Scarf

by HighPent



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Hicsqueak, Romance, Tww17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:07:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26811151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighPent/pseuds/HighPent
Summary: Pippa has left her pink scarf at Cackle’s and Hecate seeks comfort in it
Relationships: Hardbroom & Pentangle (Worst Witch), Hardbroom/Pentangle (Worst Witch), Hecate Hardbroom/Pippa Pentangle
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	The Pink Scarf

The pastel pink scarf had accidentally been left behind one of the cushions on Hecate’s sofa one cold Thursday evening after Pippa’s usual visit, but Hecate didn’t find it until the pretty witch had already started her journey home. She had intended on calling her on her mirror a couple of hours later when she would’ve arrived at Pentangle’s to let her know where it was, but somehow she had got distracted.

She was sitting by the fire on that same sofa, holding the precious item in her hands and stroking it. Hecate didn’t own anything cashmere so she had nothing to compare it to, but this was definitely the finest and the softest thing she’d ever touched. Although she knew it didn’t belong to her and she had no right, the urge to hold it against her face was too much, and safe in the knowledge nobody would know, she did just that.

Hecate breathed in and inhaled the familiar fragrance of Pippa’s favourite perfume. It filled her nose nearly overwhelming her senses, and for a moment she felt as though she could almost be holding Pippa to her. Closing her eyes she guiltily wrapped the scarf around her neck and snuggled her face into it. She hoped Pippa wasn’t too cold without it, that would be awful. Even though is wasn’t Hecate’s fault the scarf had been forgotten she still felt bad that she had it and Pippa hadn’t. Quietly to herself she whispered “If only I were this scarf and could warm and comfort you, Pippa. I would softly wrap around you and protect you with my every fibre.”

The sofa dipped slightly and a cold hand with perfectly manicured pink nails covered Hecate’s own then laced their fingers together. “There’s no comparison, given the choice I’d choose your arms every time.”


End file.
